Affection's Facade

In our lives

Elera's Present POV

"As always, my princess," he said, but his eyes betrayed a sadness he couldn't fully conceal. It was as though he were forcing his eyes to meet mine, pretending he was okay. My heart ached to admit that I, too, was far from alright, but how could I burden him further?

Sitting across from him, separated by the thick, unyielding glass, I noticed how the years had aged him prematurely. Time, it seemed, had not been a respectful guest in his life. I picked up the phone that connected us while suppressing the tremor of my hand.

"How's your mother?" His voice broke through, tinged with a genuine concern that could still pierce through years of physical and emotional distance.

"She's holding on," I answered softly, my voice a murmur in the sterile room.

For a fleeting second, his eyes misted over—a display of emotion I had witnessed only rarely in my life. "I know you're doing everything you can for her, Elera," he said, each word steeped in a sincerity that defied our surroundings.

"And you," I responded, holding his gaze as if I could somehow transmit my determination through the phone. "I haven't forgotten my promise to help you. I'm still working on it."

His face softened, the hard lines momentarily smoothing into a smile that reached his eyes. "I know you are, sweetheart. I know."

As our allotted time neared its end, a sadness shadowed me. A crescendo of emotions played out silently between us, filling the spaces that words could not occupy. "Hang on, Dad. We'll find a way to make things right," I said, more for my assurance than his.

His eyes met mine one last time, silently carrying a lifetime of love and sorrow.

"I have all the time in the world to wait," he said, attempting a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I love you, Elera."

"I love you too, appa," I replied, choking back tears as I hung up the phone and left the visiting room.

As we ended our calls and hung up our respective phones, the guards recognized me as I approached the high-security gates. Their curt nods were as close to warmth as one could expect in a place like this. Each step I took away from the visiting room echoed, my heels clicking against the cold floor.

The emotional weight of the morning stayed with me as I made my way to the hospital to see my mother. She smiled and patted my hand, her face lighting up. "How are you, my love?" she asked gently.

I took a deep breath, using her hand to massage my face. "I'm holding up, eomma," I whispered.

Her eyes searched mine. "You saw your father today?"

I nodded. "Yes, I did."

She smiled gently, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I wish I could do more for you."

Holding back tears, I responded, "Eomma, just having you alive with me is enough. I've already lost so much. I don't want to be orphaned too. I don't need to lose you or appa too. I'd bring the sky down for the both of you if that's what it takes."

Her eyes glistened. "It's us who should be saying that we'd bring the sky down for you," she whispered.

I leaned in, brushing her hair gently. "Promise me you'll get better. We'll make more memories then."

She just nodded. We sat in a heavy silence, lost in our thoughts. Soon she fell asleep after I finished reading. Taking a deep breath, I slowly got up, left her a kiss, and was on my way.

As I stepped out, the weight of the morning threatened to pull me down. Needing a change and a brief escape, I was drawn to a nearby restaurant. Its sunny patio and light brunch menu promised solace. Once settled, I closed my eyes, letting the sun's warmth grant me a fleeting relief from my heartache.